


whatever's going down will follow you around

by girljustdied



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2019-10-08 03:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girljustdied/pseuds/girljustdied
Summary: clarke’s not alone.





	whatever's going down will follow you around

**Author's Note:**

> a bridge between 1x09 and 1x10.

He’s got an arm around her waist and a hand over her mouth the second she steps foot outside the wall. She doesn’t scream; she knows who’s got her.

“Predictable,” Bellamy mutters against her temple. “Brave, even. But you know I can’t let you go out there. Not now.”

It’d been four hours since the Ark’s first exodus ship had comet-ed through the atmosphere and exploded against the ground so violently she’d felt it tremor underneath her feet. Several panic attacks and cups of Monty’s soothing teas later, gently tucked in by Octavia of all people, it’d become increasingly clear what Clarke needed to do to silence the ringing in her ears.

She mocks the words she’s heard him say to his sister dozens of times before, “Let me guess: It’s not safe. I’m only trying to protect you, frail little girl.” In struggling to contort and squirm her body out of his grasp, she jams her elbow into his mouth and finds herself dropped rather unceremoniously on her ass in the dirt. Brushing off her clothes as she stands, “I’m not the only one who’s completely unsurprising, Bellamy.”

His voice rasping with weariness, wiping blood from his lower lip, “You really believe someone could have survived that crash?”

The fire and smoke from where the ship met the Earth still pours up into the sky, obscuring the stars. She can see it even when she closes her eyes.

“I have to.”

Focused on the horizon, “This is monumentally stupid. Even for you.”

“I know,” her eyes begin to sting unexpectedly.

“Alright. Let’s go,” he sighs. And then, when she can’t seem to find it in her to respond, “You think this is what needs to be done, let’s get to it.”

It’s too much. His offer to venture out with her immediately makes the foolishness of her actions even more clear—probably his intention. A sob gathers at the base of her throat, “No, you were right. You’re right. We can’t.”

It's pitch black outside and the Grounders likely want to kill them now more than ever.

He tilts his head, gaze searching.

Steeling her shoulders, she doesn’t look away, “They need you here.”

“They need us,” his declaration far more practical than sentimental.

She reaches up to take hold of his chin and inspect where she’d hit him. “Sorry.”

“Had worse, Princess.”

She knows. “Let’s get it cleaned up.”

He tugs his face out of her grip, “It’s fine. You should get some sleep.”

Nodding, she crosses back into the camp—only to stop when she realizes the absence of his familiar footsteps behind her.

“On watch for tonight,” he answers her unasked question from the seat he’d taken on a log just outside the gate.

“Tell me this isn’t just because you don’t trust me to not circle back in five minutes.”

Smirking, “I don’t trust you to not circle back in five minutes.”

“Do you want some company?”

“Not really.” He’s not being cruel, she doesn’t think. Just honest.

He’d done enough for her today; she can’t ask for more. But her eyes drift back to the wreck in the distance and it holds her there, stuck.

Not thinking it through, “How old were you when your mother was floated?”

“We are not talking about my mother,” his tone loses any warmth it once had. He stands, taking long strides towards her, and places his gun firmly in her hands. “You really wanna spend the rest of your night out here, fine.”

“Bellamy—”

“Have fun,” he tosses over his shoulder. Disappears into the darkness.

She takes over the space he left with a pained exhale, limbs weak and aching as she sits. Tries to let the heavy weight of the rifle anchor her, fingertips pressing into the unyielding metal.

At the crack of a branch breaking behind her, she whirls around, ready for round two with Bellamy—

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace!”

Monty. Not completely joking, judging by the look on his face.

“What are you doing here?” she tries to calm her nerves.

He shrugs uncomfortably, a gun looking out of place in his hands. “I had the misfortune of being the first semi-awake person Bellamy laid his sights on. I stumble out to take a leak, end up on guard duty—it’s a real fairytale.”

“Must be nice to actually be able to sleep,” she can’t let it go. Can’t stop thinking about her mother as nothing but ash in the rubble. All ties to her past severed. Alone. “I take it your parents weren’t expected to be on the first trip to the ground?”

He lets out an amused whoosh of air, “You know, he warned me you were out for blood, but, man, it is way too late too for parental drama. Or too early. Whatever. Please don’t punch me in the face, too.”

“I didn’t—” she sputters, chastened. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s been a really hard day. It’s been a lot of really hard days, actually.”

“Yeah, I know. We’re all here, too.”

It takes everything in her protest that it’s not the same. Only Bellamy knows—

“If my mom was on that ship, she’s dead,” she finally gives what’s been stewing in her gut a voice instead. “And she’ll have died thinking that I hated her.”

He leans against the gate. “My parents are both botanists. On the Ark. Medicinal roots and herbs only, you know the deal. And they don’t really get why I love technology so much—like, not at all. Once my mom told me that men with minds like mine were the reason we had to abandon Earth in the first place.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah,” he nods. The conversation lapses into an uneasy silence, but just as she thinks the matter is truly closed, he speaks up again: “Your mom knows you love her, Clarke. Believe me.”

She slumps in relief despite herself, one hand coming up to press to her forehead. “Thanks, Monty.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

Eyes drifting shut, she shakes her head to try and clear the fatigue trying to edge its way in and take over. Sits up straighter and asks, “So, why the tech route?”

He shrugs, “Maybe you never noticed, but there wasn’t exactly a whole lot of wild plant life on the Ark. Circuits and gears always made way more sense to me than pretty much anything else.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she somehow finds it in herself to joke about all the old catastrophes, and when he laughs, she joins in.

Finds the sound is not entirely hollow.

“Sometimes I miss the engine hum,” he confesses. “That, and a nice, full night’s worth of quality shut-eye.”

“Do you think things will ever,” she swallows, “calm down here?”

“Are you asking if I think you and Bellamy are doing a good job?”

Yes.

He answers dryly before she can admit it, “Maybe ask me again when I’m not sleep-deprived and scared shitless.”

Throat tight, “No ringing endorsement, then.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping.”

“Hoping for what?” he says through a heavy yawn.

Just hoping.

Bellamy was smart to leave her to guard the south wall—and to watch over Monty, already half-heartedly trying not to nod off. Meant she couldn’t leave.

The fire in the distance has quelled to a quiet smoldering, smoke now easy to mistake for a thick fog hanging over the trees. At least, what she imagines fog would have looked like before almost a century of radiation turned it into something else.

At first light, Bellamy’s back with a group of their best for a search party.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Raven nudges Monty’s sleeping form with her boot and chuckles with a measured playfulness when he jerks awake.

Bellamy cants his head back towards the comms tent, eyes red and puffy with lack of sleep. “Still no contact with the Ark. Let’s head out.”

Her pack’s already filled with spare medical supplies from when she’d meant to head to the crash site alone in the dead of night. It’s all she needs. Starts out into the woods at a fast clip without so much as a glance over her shoulder.

Knows who’s got her back.


End file.
